


Spoken in Silence

by derryderrydown



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Outsiders
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-06
Updated: 2009-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derryderrydown/pseuds/derryderrydown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick/Roy locker room porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoken in Silence

It was one of those unsatisfying fights. Short and scrappy and no chance to really let loose, which meant they were all still het up when they got back to HQ.

Which meant Roy was arguing with Dick and wasn't even sure what had started it or what the argument was about now. He just knew that he was itchy and angry and, unsatisfying as the fight had been, he was still going to have impressive bruising in the small of his back and on his thighs and that just made him angrier.

"Shut up for five _fucking_ minutes," he snapped at Dick and slammed into the locker room, letting the door swing back to hopefully hit Dick in the face. Not that it would.

"I'm trying to critique the mission," Dick said with the elaborate calmness that meant Roy was getting to him. Well, good.

"You're trying to tell me where I fucked up." Roy yanked his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots. "Guess what. I already know."

Dick pulled off his own gauntlets and boots and started stripping. "You want me to lead this team? Then I get to tell people when they make mistakes. You barged in with-"

"I _know_." Roy shoved his pants off and grabbed a towel from the top of the pile in the corner. "I already know where I fucked up. And, in case you've forgotten, I've been doing this crap as long as you have. How about giving some advice to the kids out there who are new to this game and could really do with some pointers? Oh, yeah, I forgot. That would involve you actually giving a _fuck_ about the-"

He was slammed up against the lockers and silenced by Dick's mouth on his before he could think.

This was a tried-and-tested method of getting rid of post-mission tension and Dick had to be wired too and, fuck, it felt good. Because the great thing about Dick was that neither of them had to actually _say_ they needed this, needed each other. It was there in the slide of skin against skin, tongue against tongue; in the gasps they couldn't keep inside; in the thud as Dick slung Roy around and shoved him against the wall, pinned him there with body and eyes; in the way it made every ache hurt so damn good.

He was still holding his towel and this seemed like a good time to drop it, to run his hands down Dick's back, and then his hands were forced above his head, held tight against the wall. He narrowed his eyes and bit Dick's lower lip, hard enough that it wasn't a tease.

Dick bit back and tightened his fingers. And now Roy was going to have bruising on his wrists, too.

It didn't really matter because Dick was moving against him with seamless ripples that made it clear Dick knew Roy's body almost as well as he knew his own. And then there was only one hand holding Roy's arms above his head because Dick slipped his left hand in between them, holding both their cocks together, and Roy kissed harder, trying to keep the groan locked deep inside him.

Hard, so hard, with Dick's hand holding his cock just _right_, rubbing his thumb over the head just hard enough, but he was _not_ going to make a noise. Not while Dick was silent.

And then it should have been easier because Dick wasn't holding Roy's cock anymore, he was gripping Roy's jaw and moving him, holding him, _inhaling_ him. But that just meant Roy's cock was pressed against the crease of Dick's hip and that didn't _help_ because Dick was still moving. Nothing so inelegant as a thrust, just writhes and twists and fucking _shimmies_ that were going to break Roy in another five seconds.

Roy couldn't even concentrate on kissing. It was all about the feeling in his cock, in his balls, in his fucking _thighs_. He managed to wrench one arm out of Dick's slackened grip and grab Dick's ass, tried to guide his movements, but Dick was focused on his own needs, didn't care about Roy's.

Roy was being used, Dick's fucktoy, and it shouldn't feel so _good_ but, hell, this was what their friendship had always been about. Needs, meeting them, taking turns, never actually _saying_ it.

So he shut his eyes and didn't make a sound.

Not even as Dick whimpered, broke the kiss, and Roy opened his eyes just in time to see Dick staring wildly at him, eyes such a bright blue it almost hurt to look at them, and then there was the familiar wetness on Roy's belly as Dick sagged.

Taking turns.

Roy used Dick's own grip as a pivot against him and it was Dick's turn to be slammed against the wall, to be used, for Roy to rub off against. And Roy took advantage of his extra inch of height to make Dick feel small, because he _could_, could see it in the way Dick's eyes widened, in the way he swallowed. He could _crowd_ Dick, could be the one in perfect control, and they both knew why they both liked it and they'd never mention it.

Roy shut his eyes as he came, buried his face in Dick's shoulder and bit down to stop himself from making a sound.

He didn't move until his breathing was steady, ignoring the way his heart still pounded, the way his arm was still shaking as he picked up his towel from the floor. "Man," he said. "I really need a shower."

For a moment, he thought Dick was going to break the unspoken rules, as going to _talk_. But he just drew a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall. "Me too," he said.


End file.
